


Sweet Boy

by Anonymous



Category: A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alpha Catelyn, Alpha/Beta/Omega Dynamics, Explicit Sexual Content, F/M, Knotting, Loss of Virginity, Omega Ned, The usual dub con associated with omegaverse
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-03
Updated: 2020-11-03
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:01:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,363
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27358426
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/
Summary: Ned was going to be an alpha, he had to be, especially now the mantle of Winterfell had passed to him... except if that was true why did he have the urge to present himself to the alphas around him?
Relationships: Catelyn Stark/Ned Stark
Comments: 2
Kudos: 16
Collections: Anonymous Fics





	Sweet Boy

There was a low ache in Ned’s stomach, one which caused him to feel nauseous. That was not good, not when he had to be ready for a war meeting in mere minutes. 

He pressed a hand to where he felt the ache and was shocked by the heat emanating from it, it was likely not a stomach bug then, but he wasn’t sure what else it could be.

A bell clanged, marking noon and Ned shook his head. He had no time to worry, no time at all, not when there was a war to fight and his family to avenge.

He took a hurried sip of water and rushed out of his borrowed chamber; he would likely still be late as he still did not know the halls of Riverrun well, but if he was lucky then he would find someone able to direct him.

The corridors twisted and turned, and the beautiful tapestries that decorated them did little to aid Ned’s sense of direction.

Eventually he found the chamber in which they had been planning their campaign, Lord Tully and Lord Arryn at the head of the table, their advice highly saught after for they alone were experienced in such things. Despite his inexperience though, it was Robert who was leading them, his newly presented best friend the leader of their rebellion and fight to have Lyanna returned.

For some reason his scent seemed even stronger than usual, the sharp heady scent of alpha filling Ned’s nose when he entered the room.

Perhaps Robert had just been training, the exertion leaving him with a stronger scent than usual. 

But… that wouldn’t explain why both Jon and Lord Hoster had slightly stronger scents as well. Their usual dulled-by-age scents almost as sting as Robert’s usually was.

Perhaps, perhaps Ned was finally presenting? 

It was normal for presentation to happen at the end of puberty, when the body was ready to support the stress of a heat or rut, but Ned felt like he had been waiting an age to present. Brandon had already presented as an alpha before that fateful tourney, and Robert presented at the tourney itself; leaving just Ned behind unable to participate in the events that were solely the purview of alphas. It had stung, no matter that Robert had placated him by reminding him that he would be able to join them once he had presented. 

Because Ned was going to be an alpha, he had to be, especially now the mantle of Winterfell had passed to him. 

There was no use dwelling on it though, not when they had a war to win. 

He gave his apologies for being late and moved to his normal position between Robert and Lord Hoster’s unpresented daughter, Lady Catelyn. She had been Brandon’s betrothed, and wanted to see the fall of Aerys just as much as anyone else, for the loss of the man she had been promised to. She was Ned’s betrothed now, or at least, until they both presented and knew whether the match would be viable. 

Ned took a deep breath when he reached his position to calm himself down, but it was a mistake. A lungful of Robert’s scent entered his body, the thick smell enough to make his head spin at the sheer feeling of  _ alpha _ .

He blinked away the dots that danced before his eyes and was suddenly overcome with the need to sink to his knees, to offer his neck, to  _ present _ himself to an alpha. 

The dull ache exploded into a sharp cramp, and as it faded so did he feel a trickle of something start to leak from him. 

Red rushed to his cheeks as all eyes in the room turned upon him, nostrils flaring as he undoubtedly broadcast the sweet scent of a new omega, the sugary scent of an omega in heat. 

Ned let out a low whine, too overcome by the pain and embarrassment to do anything else, now while his vision swam and he fought just to stay standing.

“Ned?” Jon asked, a heavy blanket of concern in his voice, “Are you alright?”

Ned shook his head. He ached and the scent of so many alphas was difficult to resist, even Jon, Jon who was like a father to him, made him want to present his neck.

A hand pressed against his shoulder, a hot brand on his fevered skin, one he couldn’t help but press into. 

“Alpha.” He whined, wanting more touch, any touch that would soothe the ache inside him.

“Ned,” Robert crooned, his presence almost overwhelming, “My pretty Ned, do you know what’s happening? You’re presenting Ned, presenting as a pretty omega.”

It was so tempting to lean into Robert, to lean into those broad hands and the sense of safety they offered. 

A low growl caught his attention however, and his wide eyes turned to Lady Catelyn. 

“Mine.” She snarled, taking hold of Ned’s hand and pulling him towards her, “My omega.”

A whimper burst from Ned’s throat, and the urge to bare his neck was almost overwhelming.

A new scent filled his nose, one stronger even that Robert’s, 

It was an alpha scent, no doubt about it, but a feminine one, one containing the sweet scent of waterlilies. 

His gaze locked onto Lady Catelyn, his nostrils flaring as a realisation took hold. His heat, his presentation, must have triggered her own. Only she was no omega, no, she was an  _ alpha _ .

A high little whimper escaped his lips, and he could instantly feel the burning eyes of the alphas locked on him.

“Ned?” Jon tried again, “Do you need help? Do you want someone to escort you back to your chamber?”

He couldn’t think, couldn’t choose. Not when there were so many alphas around him, overwhelming his senses.

A hand clamped on the back of his neck, “Such a pretty omega you are Ned, such a good boy.”

Robert’s words filtered through the haze and Ned had to force his knees to lock to keep from dropping straight to the cold stones.

“And you’re all  _ mine.”  _ The last word was a snarl, domineering and powerful, and Ned’s knee dropped. 

He hit the stone with a force that should have hurt, that would have hurt if he were not so focused on the power that Robert extruded, on the trickle of slick that dampened his small clothes.

“Ned-” Jon tried once more, but was cut off by a feral growl from Robert.

He quickly backed away, and both Jon and Lord Hoster made their way to the door. There was no point for them to stay, not when Ned had triggered a feral state in Robert. For them to stay was to invite violence, and no matter the violence and winner, it would end in Ned being claimed by someone for he was too tempting a prize as deep in heat as he was. 

“I’m sorry, Ned.” Jon whispered as he left, and it was only that which truly alerted Ned to the exit of his foster father and host, as focused as he was on Robert.

He shuddered and prepared to be bitten, to have his clothes torn away and to be fucked on the floor by his best friend when a different growl caught his, and Robert’s, attention.

Lady Catelyn had not left the room, she stared at them both with a covetous gaze and there was something of a feral air about her too. She did not look particularly ladylike as she launched herself at Robert. Her teeth were bared in a snarl and her fingers curled into claws.

“He’s mine. My omega.”

“What right do you have to him!” Robert roared, “I’m his best friend, he’s mine!”

Catelyn’s hands tangled in Robert’s hair and she yanked him to the floor, “He’s my betrothed, my omega.”

Ned found he could only watch transfixed at the alphas fighting over the right to mate him; it was strangely flattering in a way, for he knew he was no great catch. He was no beauty which the bards would sing songs about, his presentation meant he laid no claim to large tracts of lands, and the war would mean that Benjen could hardly offer a large dowry to whoever became Ned’s alpha.

All Ned truthfully had to offer was himself. His name perhaps, and a connection to the Starks of Winterfell, but nothing which might have tempted an alpha in peacetime. 

Robert roared once more, like a great bear, and the noise sent shivers down Ned’s spine. His friend flipped Catelyn so that she slammed against the stones, and for a moment it seemed like he might tear out her throat with his teeth.

And then Robert winced, a pained whine leaving his mouth, and his hands moved to cover his groin. 

A self satisfied growl left Catelyn’s mouth, and Ned startled as he realised what had happened. As he realised that Lady Catelyn Tully had kneed Robert Baratheon, the future King of Westeros (if their rebellion succeeded), in the balls.

It did not take long for her to have the upper hand again, and she pinned him to the floor with her knee on his groin and his wrists pinned against the stone. 

The scent of alpha filled the air, the smell making Ned’s head completely hazy and causing him to let out a low, pleading whine.

Catelyn’s head snapped to him, her pupils completely dilated, and she let out a final growl. 

Her head smashed against Robert’s nose, breaking it and leaving him lying on the floor, although whether he was unconscious Ned did not know.

She leapt at Ned, and he let her pull him to the floor. All he could think of was how good she smelled, of how good her searing touch felt against his skin.

He let out another whine and was rewarded with a soft whine from Catelyn, one which caused another burst of slick to leak from him.

“Omega.” She purred, her tongue licking at Ned’s neck and her nose nuzzling his scent gland, “My omega.”

“Alpha.” Ned whimpered, baring his neck to her and spreading his legs, “ _ Alpha _ .” 

Catelyn’s teeth grazed against his gland, and Ned went limp. All he could think of was her heat above him. All he could do was beg wordlessly with his eyes for her to sink her teeth into his neck and her cock into his hole.

She pinned his wrists to the floor with one hand and used the other to tear at his clothes, ripping his shirt in her haste to unlace it. 

Her piercing gaze turned upon the exposed skin of Ned’s chest, the scars and bruises of a lifetime of training evident before her. Her hand trailed along his chest, caressing each scar she came across and treating him with such tenderness that Ned was soon shaking with want. 

He wanted to turn over, to present and feel the sharp bite of her teeth in his neck. He couldn’t though. 

Not when Catelyn lowered her mouth and started to lap at the scars. Her tongue felt like fire against his skin, a bright spot of heat and wet and  _ good _ .

He whined, pleading for more, and his alpha listened. 

She let go of his wrists, leaving them against the floor with a wordless command for him to keep them there. 

The thought of disobeying never even crossed Ned’s mind.

The places his alpha’s tongue had been still felt hot, burning against the cool air of the room. His heart fluttered as her hand slowly trailed down his skin until they reached the fastening of his breeches.

“Good omega.” She crooned, “Good boy.”

With torturously slow hands she unfastened his breeches, her slender hand reaching in and grasping his throbbing cock.

“Please,” He gasped, “Please. Please, please.” 

It felt like his whole body was aflame with need, his arousal burning deep and strong. His every pore cried out for more, and from the way that Catelyn’s pupils dilated even further when he released another burst of slick, she obviously felt the same.

All gentleness as left her as the rut took over, she tore away his breeches and small clothes, leaving him exposed and shivering on the stone floor. 

“Present.” She growled, and Ned scrambled to obey her. 

He had never taken such a position before, but it felt so right and he sank even further into his heat, barely conscious of anything but wanting his hole filled.

He whined when a finger entered him, probing and stretching him a little. He was so ready though that it slipped in easily, and it was not many moments before a second, then a third joined it.

He clenched around them, hoping for something more, hoping for something to fill him in the way he craved. 

Either Catelyn sensed his desperation, or she too had grown impatient for the fingers were ripped from him, and in almost the same breath the blunt head of her cock started to press at his entrance. 

She pushed in slowly and as she did so all the air left his lungs in a low groan. She was so big, she stretched him just as he craved.

Catelyn did not stop the long, slow push into him until she was completely sheathed.

“Sweet boy,” She sighed, “Good omega.”

The praise soothed Ned for a while, but soon the heat began to build in his veins again and he was wriggling and clenching and begging her to move.

She started to move, hesitantly at first, but she soon built up a steady pace, one which brushed against a spot inside Ned that had him seeing stars.

Their moans of pleasure mingled in the air, and all Ned could focus on was the pleasure building and the sweet slide of Catelyn’s cock within him. 

He gasped when it started to stretch him even further, and began to push back to meet her thrusts, eager to have her swelling know inside him. 

Her knot caught against his rim, and her teeth entered his neck with a sweet agony, and Ned’s world went white with pleasure.


End file.
